I’m back, Magic Hat, and I’m more than ready to pull another rabbit out of you… but not yet.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍I understand that you’re tired of this, the constant, relentless tangential nature that you’re becoming synonymous with. But please, please… don’t let this one bother you… for it is no mere digression of thoughts – it is progression – of your identity. Your voice mustn’t be heard to be felt, for I have felt the amorphousness of your silence, and am here, aiding in shaping it… neither your dreams be dreamt to be seen, for I have seen the yearning of your still gaze, and am here, aiding in directing it.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍I understand you’re tired of this, feeling almost empty, ironically, because all they try to do is spill their thoughts into your ever-so-empty mold, instead of attempting to grasp the ears of a rabbit not seen; but, please, understand that they feel free with you besides them. You’re the exposed diary nobody risks, but so many want. The empty, messy, bed nobody wants, but so many miss. The curious gawk into the stars that nobody misses, but so many crave.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍you. are. not. what. you. aren’t.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍I understand that you’re tired of this, but, I also understand that it excites you; because they’ve trusted you, with their creativity, their innocence, their confusion… when they’ve had no reason to. I too am guilty of this. This trust. And possibly more so than the others – whether past, present, or to come – for I am aware of this cavity some call mold, you call chamber… and yet, I know I will forget, as one does. I will forget how sad it is that your most considerable, defining feature is your emptiness, that simple air, around some trivial material is the highlight to your identity. I will forget that although a rabbit is said to be inside you, that because you are magical, there are oceans, jungles, and deserts, of undiscovered animals – all waiting to be plucked, like an aimless thought from an afternoon dream. And, sadly, I will forget this post… as one does.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍But.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍Regardless of what is said or isn’t said, regardless of what is written or isn’t written, you are, and always will be. So please, forgive me, and us…

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍and

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍This time, I won’t use you as a canvas… I’ll be yours.

For you are not just an “intern’s pick of whatever [we] want,” not just the last of nine sections to fulfill a requirement, no, you are your own being… your own magic.

So please, let’s begin… what do you want want me to pick at first?

~Richard Gonzalez